She had a beautiful way with words.Seville’s reminiscing from early rattled through my mind. “Now you feel like talking about her?”
“Of course.” She smirked, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “My agenda and all.”
“Why?” I dragged out the word, trying in vain to unearth her intentions.
“Because I feel like it.” She barked out a laugh. “Why else would I do anything?”
“No, not that.” It was impossible not to glare at her. “Why did you and Rowena exchange letters?”
“Ah.” The curve to her lips became softer, gentler. She looked away at the space behind me, and her fingers dawdled over the lip of her cup. In the span of a breath, she was gone—lost in some memory that caused her body to slacken. I wondered if this was the real Seville. Pensive. Amorous. She was bathed in a gauzy, romantic light with her blond hair spilling over her shoulders.
Seville didn’t need to try so damn hard to be beautiful. Because this version of her was the very definition of ethereal, and I couldn’t find the gall to speak.
After that solitary beat that seemed to last an eternity, Seville straightened. She flipped her hair back, and the veneer she always wore—exquisite, yet remarkably cold, especially after what I’d just witnessed—slid over her expression.
“Why do you think we spoke privately?” Her gaze raked over me, and mischief lit in her stare. “Why do you and Orin spend time alone?”
My lips fell open at her insinuation, and I went rigid all over. My aunt andSeville? Seville giggled and pushed herself into an upright position. “Gods, your face. Relax.” She waved off my reaction as if it were nothing more than a bothersome fly. “Tell me what you know about power sharing and heartbonds.”
“Power sharing and heartbonds...?” The whiplash of her words made my head spin, and I tossed up my hands in frustration. “How do you expect me to keep up with this conversation?”
“By providing me with your rapt, undivided attention.”
Mrs.Marlow returned at that point with several options of varying colors and textures, which was a reprieve as I was afforded the excuse to look at something other than Seville’s painted-on grin. I desperately wished I could call on my power and somehow see the threads of her words, figure out all the hidden things she was weaving into her little tales.
“Well? Go on, then. Tell me something,” Seville prompted.
“I don’t know much. Just that the effects are permanent,” I said as I trailed light fingers over an emerald-green bralette hemmed with silver thread. I hadn’t spoken to anyone in the house about heartbonds yet, but I hadn’t forgotten about that dog-eared page from their history tome. Maybe the same person who had marked it was responsible for the missing page from Rowena’s journal.
“Indeed.” Seville’s keen eyes shifted to the fabric in my hands, and she pinned Mrs.Marlow with a quick glare. “I said black. Or better yet, gold.”
“Gold?” Mrs.Marlow snatched the garments from my grip and cradled them against her chest. “That’s not a hue I carry. I would have to have a bolt specially dyed, and I’d need ample time to construct something from scratch. It would be costly.”
Gold.The color of riches and royalty. The color of crowns. Fora moment, I glanced at the window and imagined being able to peer through the fabric at the world outside, at the golden beetle hiding between the ivy leaves. Maybe I had been marked for something more. Seville clearly had made me part of her plan, because while her questions were wild, her thoughts scattered, her gaze had never felt more meaningful.
“I’ll pay it,” Seville said, effectively breaking me from my reverie. “In the meantime, I suppose it’s fine to fit her with some of your existing options.” With uncanny swiftness, she secured the teapot and refilled her cup. “She’ll be needing something to wear immediately, so yourlesser-quality creations will have to do.”
I bit my tongue at Seville’s nonchalant dig. Mrs.Marlow, however, was much better at schooling her indignation into place. She didn’t flinch—only smiled and left to return to her racks in search of something Seville would deem suitable.
Seville dragged a lazy finger along the rim of her cup. “Did you know that some Ever families have stronger magic than others? Abilities specific only to their kin? Control over the elements—I met someone years ago who could summon stars that dusted into diamond-like particles. It was beautiful.”
An image of Briar sitting outside during lessons cradling a cluster of stars flooded my mind. “Like the Starglens?”
“Yes.” She went impossibly still. Her lips were sealed tight, but there was something fiery in her gaze, something that begged for recognition. I couldn’t fathom what. She let me feel the full weight of her stare and that sole word for a breath, and then she tapped her wrist for effect. “The same goes for us Ferngloves. These unique powers live in our blood. The only way for that magic to be passed on is to bear children—which I mentioned is rare—or through a heartbond.”
Her words seemed to hang in the very air as I turned them over. Again, I couldn’t help but notice the quiet reverence in her voice at the mention of the bond. But there was an undercurrentto her tone, a low heat that matched the intensity of her stare. A warning. Or . . .
An opportunity. Something in my mind clicked like a lock releasing, and suddenly the quiet sounds of the shop were too sharp, the light too harsh. My breath caught in my chest.
“Has an Ever attempted to form a heartbond with a human?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Seville didn’t move an inch. “There’s never been any power to share, so why give something freely when we stand to gain nothing in return? We prefer consorts and save the bonds for other Evers.”
“But if there was power to share...” I let my words fall away as Mrs.Marlow returned with a brassiere made of sheer slate-gray fabric and black stitching that formed intricate swirls. Seville stood and took it from her, shooing her away with one stern look. She came up behind me and pinned the straps to my shoulders with her fingers, allowing the fabric to loosely drape against my chest.
“Careful, Edira,” she murmured against my ear, and gooseflesh rippled down my neck. “Speak it into existence and it just might happen. And it cannot be undone.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at myself in the mirror, at the armor Seville had expertly selected.
